


On the Edge

by YandereDad



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide Attempt, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 21:59:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15325269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YandereDad/pseuds/YandereDad
Summary: "I want you to say you love me. Say it and mean it"





	On the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider checking me out at https://yanderedad.tumblr.com/ :3

They didn’t know how much time had flown past since this perpetual nightmare they called reality had began. For someone who claimed to be a man of god, Joseph sure knew how to psychologically torture someone. They were all alone, locked in one of Dutch’s bunker’s bedrooms, with only a hard yet lumpy mattress on the ground for furnishing. They weren’t quite sure what it was, but there was an endless tapping that invaded their eardrums, in addition to Joseph’s incessant praying.

Anytime they needed to eat or use the bathroom he was there, if not watching then just behind the corner, making sure they didn’t hurt themselves. When they had first entered the bunker they were free to roam, and so had hidden themselves in-between the faded couch and the bookshelf, trying to make themselves as small as possible and hide from the man who had not only taken away everyone that they loved, but who had everyone that he loved taken by them. Despite this he didn’t hate them, or even blame him, but cited their deaths as the ‘will of God’ and as a ‘necessary pain’ in exchange for not only entrance through Eden’s Gate, but his soulmate. 

They didn’t believe in such nonsense, but Joseph insisted that they were made for each other. He had spent countless nights attempting to prove his devotion, singing to them songs of love and praise, but they just couldn’t accept it. It was the night (or maybe it was day?) that Joseph attempted to take their relationship (if you could call it that) to the next level that they lost all privileges they held within the bunker. 

He’d peppered slow, sensual kisses over their calloused hands as he praised them for their strength. “I’m not your enemy, my love” he whispered against the palm of their hand, as his kisses started rising higher and higher. “Joseph…” they warned softly, too scared of angering him to raise their voice or voice their complaints. He ignored them, eventually kissing his way up to their face, pressing his forehead against theirs and slowly leaning in. 

If it had been anyone else they might have enjoyed the kiss, but not with him, never with him. The kiss was technically perfect by normal standards, as he gently cupped their face in both of his large hands, calloused from his days picking peaches in Georgia. 

But they just couldn’t. Not with him, never with him, with the man who had killed so many innocent people in the name of his God. Ripping themselves out of his grasp, they raced to the bathroom, quickly locking it behind them. At first he cooed for them to come out, apologizing for his lust and promising to repent. 

By the time they had strung up the makeshift noose made of one of Joseph’s belts he had become frantic, desperately pounding on the door and begging for forgiveness. He eventually broke through, and just like a cliche romantic novel he stopped them before they could kick the chair out from under themselves.

Since then they had been trapped, even more trapped than when they first entered the bunker. It was too much - their poor brain couldn’t handle it, not after everything they had endured. They missed being able to stretch their legs and read Duke’s military history guides. Hell, they missed Joseph’s tall and surprisingly muscular frame snaking around them at night as they slept (despite being a psychotic bastard he was a gentleman, they supposed, as he once reassured them that he would keep his lust at bay until their wedding night, as at that point it would no longer be a sin to make love to them in the many ways he dreamed of - that latter part unnerved them), providing much needed human contact that they had not had the time for on the police force. 

They were pulled from their reminiscing by the scraping of the wooden door against the concrete floor. Instantly they sat up, needy for some form,  _any_ form of human connection. He smiled down at them tenderly, and they swore they saw a halo above his head, but that could have just been the lighting,  _or their deteriorating mental state_. 

He knelt down to their level on the mattress, and hummed happily when they pulled him into a desperate hug ( _god they needed something, anything! they couldn’t even remember the last person they had some sort of human contact with before Joseph_ ). He sighed, and released them from the hug, peering down at them from his uniform yellow sunglasses. 

“ _My love_ , I hate having to keep you in here.  _Please_ , tell me that you have come to your senses, that you have realized that our love is  _destined_. Please promise me that you will never try to leave me again, the one person who loves you the most” Joseph gingerly asks, his voice soft and calming.

“Yes, please, I’m so sorry Joseph I’m so so sorry! Please free me, I just can’t stand it any more! I’ll do anything!” They cried out, finally breaking after Joseph’s numerous attempts to have them repent.

Joseph stood at his full height, lovingly gazing down at them.  **“I want you to say you love me. Say it and mean it”.**

They sung their love for Joseph all night long.


End file.
